Awakenings Of Various Kinds
by MiladyGirl
Summary: Since it's apparently frowned upon to start a story with the main character waking up, I decided to rebel and write a bunch of drabbles that only revolves around that very thing. Just a silly little fic from a deranged mind. :P


**A/N**

So, starting a story by having the main character waking up, is something that's frowned upon in fancier circles. Apparently. Since I don't move in fancy circles I decided to deliver a kick in that direction by writing "waking up"-drabbles that _only_ revolves around that. LOL

Also, personally, I _loathe_ mornings with all my heart and soul, so if you're looking for chirping "rise and shine" stuff, you've come to the wrong place. :P

Sticking with season 8/9 canon pairings for this one.

* * *

 **JJ, 1 am**

The last thing you want to wake up to, is the sound of vomiting. She was out of bed almost before she had woken up, halfway to Henry's room when a choked cry called for her.

"Mommy, I puked!"

 _Please let it be the hot dogs he ate for dinner; I_ told _Will it was too much! Please, please, don't let it be the stomach flu._

But the little boy was soaked in sweat, messy hair plastered to his flushed cheeks, and his eyes were glassy with fever, so it was not just overeating. JJ called over her shoulder:

"Will!"

Some grunting noises was the closest thing to a reply she got, but he emerged in the doorway a minute later, only in pyjama pants and nothing else.

"What's… oh. Oh, no, buddy," Will said and sent JJ a helpless glance.

"I'll stay home with him tomorrow," she said. "I think we mostly have paperwork to catch up on this week, plus this is so contagious I'd rather not be on my way to a case and get sick. Go sleep in the guest room, honey. I'll let Henry sleep in our bed tonight so I can keep an eye on him."

Henry swayed a little, and his red-flushed face paled into tone of a greenish white before he bent forward and threw up all over his pyjamas.

"Buuuut first he's going into the shower," JJ continued and carried the little boy across the hall and into the bathroom. This time he barely made it to the toilet before the rest of his dinner came back up.

 _Oh, the joys of motherhood_ , JJ thought, but deep within, she was relieved it was just a stomach bug. In her job, she saw children in far worse predicaments… but it still hurt her mother heart to see her little boy so sick.

Sighing, she went to clean up and toss the dirty night clothes into the washing machine, and resigned to not getting any more sleep this night.

* * *

 **Rossi & Strauss, 2 am**

David Rossi awoke to the not particularly pleasant sensation of being smacked in the face with a pillow.

"Huh? What was _that_ about?" he groaned.

"You snore, dear," Erin Strauss said, snatched her pillow back, and laid down again. "Don't you dare going back to sleep before I do," she added and yawned.

"Are you ordering me as my superior?" he teased and put one hand on her hip.

"If that's what it takes, then yes," she replied.

"I guess it's inappropriate of me to touch you like this, then," he said and started withdrawing his hand. She put her own hand over his before he could remove it.

"I'll let that behaviour slide for now," she murmured sleepily.

He inched closer and inhaled the faint scent of her shampoo, almost drifting off again but being enough of a gentleman to let the lady go first. Her breathing evened out… and then she began to snore.

He briefly considered giving her the same pillow-assisted treatment she had given him, but it seemed like too much work at three in the morning, so he merely rolled over and tried to block it out instead. But boy, was she going to hear about _this_ in the morning…!

* * *

 **Morgan, 3 am**

Morgan woke up to a kiss, which certainly was one of the better ways. He reached out to pull Savannah closer, but instead she pulled away and out of his grasp.

"No, come here baby," he pleaded.

"Sorry, I just got called in. A bus collided with a truck on the highway, lots of seriously injured are coming in. I didn't mean to wake you, I just wanted a kiss before I left."

He sat up and watched as she grabbed her keys and purse.

"I don't know when I'll get back, so could you feed and walk the dog before you leave? Please?"

He let out a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his head with one hand.

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks honey."

"Just one second," he said and reached out his arms. "You wanted a kiss before leaving, didn't you?"

She smiled and walked into his undressed embrace, accepting the soft kiss and the encouragement it was meant to give her.

"Careful on the roads," he said and slowly let go of her.

"I'd better be," she replied. "Talk to you later. Don't forget the dog."

He looked at the canine, that had already jumped into bed to make use of the warmth before it was gone. He shrugged. Maybe not the bed mate he had hoped for for the remainder of the night, but it couldn't be helped.

"I won't."

"Love ya. Bye!"

And then she was out the door.

Morgan went back to bed, and five minutes later, he was asleep again.

* * *

 **Blake, 4 am**

Alex Blake accidentally woke up to the usual, involuntary spring morning routine, and her body convulsed repeatedly as she tried to suppress the persistent allergy attack the best she could.

It was too _early_ for this. Not just too early in the morning, but too early in the _year_. It seemed it started earlier every spring. The other day Reid had informed her (forgetting to consider whether she wanted the information or not) that it wasn't just her imagination; it was a direct consequence of climate change. Hooray.

Finally able to draw a full, uninterrupted breath, she checked the alarm clock. It announced the time to 4:02, two and a half hour before she had to get up, with almost gleeful sadism. So, a clock shouldn't be either gleeful or sadistic, but this one was. She sighed and decided she might just as well get up and put on the coffee. She'd need it to get through the day. Coffee and Benadryl. The former to keep the latter from knocking her out cold.

Before getting out of bed she sent a watery-eyed glare in the direction of her husband, who was somehow still asleep. He'd probably wake up in time to smell the coffee - literally.

She startled as James murmured, without opening his eyes;

"You know, you shouldn't hold them in like that. There have been recorded cases of people getting a stroke from stifling sneezes."

"I tried not to wake you," she replied thickly. "I see that was a wasted effort."

" _Effort_ is an accurate word for it though, the entire bed rocked," he chuckled and rolled over. "You look like crap, Alex."

"Thank you, darling, just what I needed to hear."

"I'm serious, however. You shouldn't hold them in. Okay, I admit that a stroke is a bit far-fetched, but rupturing an eardrum isn't."

"Fine, whatever," she muttered. "I'm going to put on coffee; do you want some, or do you want to try and go back to sleep?"

"Coffee would be great."

Walking towards the door, she screamed out a full-volume sneeze. James blinked, thoroughly taken aback.

"You know, I didn't say you had to try rupturing _my_ eardrums instead," he said. Alex looked back at him, too tired to find his joke the slightest bit amusing.

"Get used to it."

As he couldn't very well go back on what he had just told her, and he strongly doubted he'd manage to 'get used to it' any more than you could get used to some casual morning cannon fire, James secretly promised himself to buy ear plugs.

 _And_ write her a prescription for something stronger than those over-the-counter pills she took… for his own wellbeing as much as hers.

* * *

 **Hotch, 5 am**

"It's over there, by the balloons."

Hotch opened one eye, wondering what was by which balloons, and especially why that was important information to share before the alarm had gone off. He quickly realised that it was just Beth gearing up for one of her sleep talk performances.

"What is?" he asked. She giggled and turned so she was flat on her back.

"The restaurant that sells those tiny…" she trailed off and took a deep breath, licking her lips.

"Those tiny what?"

"Footballs," she whispered, as if sharing a big secret with him.

"A restaurant that sells tiny footballs?" he chuckled.

"It's just a disguise," she murmured. "They're really ants. Don't be fooled."

"I won't be fooled," he promised her. "Beth?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"You're sleeping."

"Hell _yeah_!" she exclaimed.

"You're talking in your sleep," he clarified, still chuckling quietly. "Relax. Go have a tiny football if you like."

Beth grinned and rolled over to the side, pulling the blankets along with her. Hotch shook his head, but at least she was quiet now. He managed to get a piece of the bedcovers for himself, and fell asleep.

* * *

 **Garcia, 6 am**

Garcia only had a set alarm for safety measures – she was always awake before it went off. Not completely of her own volition though, but rather Sergio's. Since she took in Emily's strong-willed cat she had no problem waking up on time.

Sergio knew the time better than she did, and he had decided that six am was the perfect time for his breakfast to be served. And so, about five minutes prior to this magic hour, he got up from his comfortable place by her feet, stretched his body methodically, groomed his fur for a bit, strolled up to the pillow, and bumped his forehead against her face.

"Mm, yeah, I'll be right up," she murmured and sighed deeply.

That was not good enough for a hungry cat, so Sergio jumped onto her chest, clawed a little on her blanket to get her attention, and then shoved his face into hers. When Garcia opened her eyes, she found herself staring into a pair of large, round, yellow eyes that seemed to convey deep disappointment in her servant skills.

"Ugh, I'm coming, Sergio," she said.

" _Meow_ ," he responded, and somehow made it sound like ' _now'_. As if he was afraid she'd miss the urgency in his request, he clawed at her pillow a couple of times while purring loudly into her ear. When she finally sat up, Sergio jumped off the bed and rushed to the door, meowing again. How these two-legged creatures could be so _slow_ , it really baffled him. It was like they were doing it on purpose, just to try the patience of a poor, innocent, starving little cat.

"You're not about to starve to death this morning, no more than you were yesterday," Garcia said as she put her feet into a pair of slippers and made her way to the kitchen, with Sergio walking in front of her to make sure she really knew where she was going. Not starving to death, huh! There were only a couple left of the inedible bits in the bowl with dry food, and the wet food was all gone. All gone!

"The dry food bowl is almost full, you know," she enlightened him, as if he were blind. "It's not my fault you eat all your favourite bits first and then leave the boring ones, but you're hardly starving."

That was such a stupid statement he didn't even acknowledge it, and Garcia chuckled and patted his back.

"Is tuna alright for breakfast on this fine morning, Sir?" she joked and filled his bowl. He threw himself all over it, barely waiting for her to step aside. She watched him eat for a moment, amused by the sound of him purring with his mouth full, then she opened the fridge to make breakfast for herself before getting dressed and fixed up to go to work.

* * *

 **Reid, 8 am**

Spencer Reid was vaguely aware that his cell phone was ringing somewhere, but it didn't seem very important. He stretched, yawned and almost fell back asleep, but the ringing was insistent, so he sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for the item in question.

The caller ID read "Hotch", so he thought it best to answer.

"Reid."

"Where are you?" Hotch asked brusquely.

"I'm home, of course, it's only…" he picked up his wristwatch to check the time and was quiet for several seconds. " _Eight_?!" he burst out. "Hotch, I'm so sorry, looks like my alarm never went off, I'll be in as soon as I can!"

He meant to get out of bed even as he spoke, but got his leg tangled up in the bedcovers and flailed helplessly with both arms before falling back onto the mattress. Hotch heard the commotion (as well as the quite uncharacteristic curse word escaping the youngest member of the BAU) and chuckled a little to himself.

"Don't kill yourself, Reid. It's alright, everyone's allowed to be late once. Come in as soon as you can. Preferably properly dressed and fed."

"Yeah, sure. Sure, I'll, be right there."

Hotch hung up, and only a couple of seconds later – while he was trying to button his shirt – he got a text message. It was from Alex.

" _Up a bit too late talking to Phone Booth Girl last night, were you?"_

He sniggered a little and composed a reply.

" _That is absolutely none of your business, and yes I was."_

He didn't mind throwing her that bone. She would probably tease him a little, but she teased gentler than, say, Morgan would, and if he was completely honest to himself, he kind of _wanted_ her to tease him about it just so he got a chance to talk about Maeve.

Oversleeping, on the other hand… ugh, that was something he'd be teased for by the entire team, and it would be brought up when he least expected it.

Thinking back on last night, and how he and Maeve had lost track of time and spoken well into early morning hours… he decided that it was definitely worth it.


End file.
